


Our love is like those black and white films

by dontstraytoofar



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-21 00:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3670719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontstraytoofar/pseuds/dontstraytoofar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where everything is black and white until you meet your soul mate.</p><p>(No one else controls Peggy's destiny, unless your a 5'5 Italian who literally sweeps you off your feet)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let's hear it for New York

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so maybe this is cliche but I needed it. This will likely be a 3 part series. maybe less? See how I go. Enjoy!
> 
> (Oh and PS. lets just pretend for this story the 1940's wasn't a time of homophobia, racism, sexism and yada yada yada)

In her life, Peggy Carter is sure of three things.

One: no matter who you are the value of yourself doesn’t rely on other people. Two: when she was seven she thought she could legitimately fly (her brothers fault on that one) And three: the world she sees is black and white, the occasional grey mixed between. 

Because that’s how the world works, it just does. Until she meets her soulmate, her ‘other half’ she see’s the sky as white in the day and black at night. She sees it grey on a cloudy day and every flower she see’s is the same. She’s never had a favourite colour (of course) but the way people describe them makes Peggy wish she could see that angry red or serene blue. 

And sometimes, on days like today, one of the three things Peggy is sure about contradicts one another. 

_The value of myself cannot rely on others_. Yes, true.

But she’s been waiting for one person, _relying_ on them to see this ‘colour’. And it’s mighty confusing because it’s been twenty eight years of the same vision and not once has she seen her eye colour or hair colour. Her mother always says they are both velvet brown. Doesn’t help one bit.

(Her brother just tells her to imagine life as a movie, a black and white strip of film) 

She ignores him, a playful punch to the shoulder. This _is_ the same brother who convinced her to jump down her childhood home’s flight of stairs on the basis of: “People can fly! What do you think arms are for?” 

It’s all well and good when you have your own soulmate. He found his when he was twenty, a girl who worked on the corner selling newspapers. He describes colour as something you can easily taste, his wifes cooking apparently _that_ good. But Peggy has never tasted colour so to speak, and these three bland colours are starting to rub her the wrong way. 

So it’s another day of grey. ‘Black’ heels and lipstick, grey coat and white stockings. Walking the streets of New York as couples all around her point to the sky and exclaim ‘what a wonderful day!’ 

Then theres the people like her, ones who see just like she does. Who kick grey stones and keep their head low because the sky is just white again. Or there are the people who keep looking to the sky, just hoping they’ll see it again. Hoping that their soul mate isn’t actually gone and that they’ll see the blue expanse again with their loves on their arms. 

Peggy’s heart especially calls out to them. 

_Could you imagine? Their lives and light gone as quick as-_

Her next thought process is rudely derailed, a fast body smacking into her front. With all their belongings strewn across the concrete in one clumsy exclamation of “Jesus!” Peggy holding up her hands to steady the rushed women, the exclamation then politely followed by,

“Oh jeez, sorry Miss. Didn’t see ya there!” 

Before Peggy can get a word out the young woman is already on the floor picking up fly away papers and boxes, holding them to her chest. Spewing a fast paced conversation as she continues to pick up her belonging, Peggy finally snaps out of the shock and kneels down. Gathering a box and shoving notes and folders as neatly as possible. 

“It’s quite alright, my fault entirely. Lost in thought”

The light brunette snorts, still not having looked up.

 _Carter did you just say brunette?_

Peggy chokes on her spit.

“Your fault? I nearly gave you whiplash sugar, no need to apologize. Kinda get lost in this place sometimes”

But Peggy’s frozen, staring at the woman's tips of red to her nails. The flushed pink to her downcast cheeks, the absolute gorgeous light brown of her curled hair. The mismatched colour of her sweater to her skirt. And Peggy see’s the ocean in her eyes, the blue filling every part of her mind as she stares at it from the side. 

This all consuming _blue._

(Peggy gets it now why people always point to the sky.) 

She goes to choke out her words, to say what a force of nature this woman holds in her stare. But all she gets is the bounce as she stands up, still not having looked to Peggy. Boxes in her arms and in her frazzled state turns to go.

“Thanks for the help English! Catch ya in the big city!”

Peggys left to stare, the retreating pink of her back in the throng of greying bodies.

_Grey?! No!_

And with the woman’s papers still in her hand she clutches them as she barrels through bodies. Grey hats and grey suits and black shoes and white skies and _no no no._

“Wait!”

A suitcase hits her knee, 

_“Ay watch where ya goin!”_

“Come back! Miss!”

She shoulders sideways into a group, that pink and brown so far and in between. Her voice sounds so desperate to her ears. 

“Please, just stop!”

But theres too many people in New York city and the crowd just consumes the woman. The crowd just consumes Peggy’s sky. 

(Peggy wishes she was seven again, flying above grey until she see’s the ocean)

“No…”

The word is said disbelievingly, whispered and a little broken. She doesn’t notice the tears until an elderly man taps her shoulder.

“Mam? Are you alright?”

She wipes at it with the papered back of her hand. Clearing her throat and fixing her blouse that got skewed in the collision. 

“Perfectly fine sir. Thankyou” 

“You lookin’ for someone?”

Peggy’s value is relying _far_ too much on a pink sweater and blue eyes.

“No, no. Just on my way”

The mans too kind, a hand patted to her forearm and a supportive smile.  
“You’ll find ‘em. Heard the city’s smaller than ya think” 

Peggy smiles in return, everything’s black and white. She looks down and breathes in, the papers in her hand resembling a script of somesort. _“The Corn is Green”_

“I heard this is where dreams are made of” 

“Is finding her not the same thing?”

In her life Peggy Carter is sure of three things. 

One: Blue is her favourite colour. 

Two: She can’t fly. 

And three: Her value is her own, no matter the circumstances. 

(Doesn’t mean she can’t go chasing the big city and learn how to soar the skies)


	2. The guide to getting to know your soulmate

The next time Peggy sees colour she’s ordering lunch and flipping the pages of her newspaper. Jarvis is behind her, swirling a spoon in his tea clockwise talking over his shoulder, reading the same headlines of his own paper. 

They’re seated in a neat little automat, booths back to back with waitresses fluttering about the busy Tuesday morning. Suited men capping their coffees and clinking cutlery. 

“Miss Carter did you hear this? Apparently stocks are down again. This economy I swear..”

Jarvis waits for the well-informed reply, statistics on exchange rates, maybe a list of countries high on the stock market. But all he gets is silence, inclining slightly to see Peggy’s jawed dropped and her tea half way up to her mouth. 

“Miss Carter?” 

A blink, but no movement. So Jarvis follows her line of sight, looking up into the image of one of the waitresses making coffee. Light brown curled hair and eyes so blue Jarvis can see them from here. _Angie_ , reads her nametag. And Jarvis doesn’t need to guess, because for as long as he’s known Peggy Carter, she’s seen in black and white. 

And the look she’s giving off is as if she’s seen the light. 

“You’ll catch flies that way, you know” 

Jarvis flicks his newspaper to gain Peggy’s attention, her mouth audibly clicking and her eyes blinking out the faze. 

“Oh my god Jarvis it’s her” 

“Judging from your look, I’m guessing she’s the one who you ‘bumped’ into?”

“Of course”

“And she didn’t see you?”

“No”

“Well,” Jarvis folds his newspaper and stands, a tip set for a Queen on the table. “Good luck”

Peggy gives off a slightly panicked look, holding out her hand to his forearm to stop him. And whatever comes out of her mouth seems like it’s the hardest thing for her to say. 

“For the love of God Jarvis, for once I’m asking for _your_ help” 

Smiling smugly he straightens his suit and folds the newspaper under his arm, 

“You need my help? I’m sure your capabilities reach as far as woo-ing Miss Carter” 

_“Jarvis”_

“I’m just pulling your leg, of course I’ll help you”

Letting out a relieved sigh Peggy leans back into the booth, tinkering with the fork in front of her. 

“Right after my afternoon lunch with Anna. Farewell Miss Carter”

“Wait, Mr. Jarvis!” 

But he’s already waving goodbye with the paper, smiling to himself as Peggy whisper-yells from behind him. Oh, he has no doubt he’ll get right sort of dig from Peggy after this. But the fact still remains when he met Anna, Peggy made a good arse out of him by telling rather _too_ many embarrassing stories of his life. 

And so when he hears a plate smash behind him, turning around to see _Angie_ open mouthed and Peggy in the booth looking some what sheepish, Jarvis likes to think it’s the right sort of payback.   
\------------

“Ummm??

“Hello”

“Uhhh…”

She’s sitting there, in the booth of her work place, sitting so perfectly that Angie can’t remember what to say (just _nothin_ outta her mouth) or do or act because _there is colour everywhere_. 

The smeared red of her lips, the chestnut waves down the woman’s back. The shining brown of her eyes, the pink nails, how everything around Angie is bright and luminescent. 

It’s amazing! The woman in the booth of her shitty workplace is making the 45 cents in tips mean nothin’. It’s making Angie instantly smile and eyes lighting up to take everything in. 

Maybe this is what’s missing from her auditions. That ‘flair’ she apparently doesn’t have. Maybe this is what everyone talks about when they mention ‘love’

And she dropped the plate, she knows. It’s smashed at her feet and it’s under her shoes but neither woman can look away, and Angie just darts to the opposite seat and excitedly leans over the table as Peggy just keeps staring. Neither breaking it.

“Gosh, you’re somethin’ else. Is this what everyone’s been talkin ‘bout?”

Peggy blushes, stammering quite unlike herself. And it’s the cutest thing Angie ever did see. 

“A-apparently so. Do you remember me?”

Frowning Angie scrunches her nose and thinks back, coming up blank and shrugging. Angie’s pretty sure she would remember _this_. Remember the reds and the bright lights and a sweet English voice.

_Hang on, English?_

“Oh my god, you’re the gal I ran into, aren’t ya?” Angie’s blushing, and she just plants her head in her hands cause thats downright the most embarrassing thing in Angie’s life. Running into her soulmate and running off again? _Damn Ang, you’ve outdone yourself._

But English just chuckles and shakes her head, those rich chocolate eyes piercing Angie in every spot a girl can imagine. 

“The one and only” 

“Okay, can we start again? With me not bein a class A ass and you bein’ your usual beautiful self?”

It brings a warm smile to Peggy’s face, and Angie knows she’s a goner. She’s gone ahead and fallen in love with red lips and puppy dog eyes. 

“I’d love nothing more…?”

“Oh duh! Angela Martinelli, Angie for short.”

Angie’s nearly in Peggy’s side of the table she’s leaning so far over. 

“Peggy, Peggy Carter. Short for Margaret.”

“Beautiful name and face, you tryin to kill me English?”

“Nothing of the sort.”

Angie giggles and leans back a bit, just noticing how close she creeped. Peggy’s looking at her so fully that Angie’s afraid that she’s got somethin’ on her face this whole time. And Angie’s knee is bouncing she’s so excited, twenty five years and seeing these colours out of nowhere? Angie just wants to take Peggy’s hand and go everywhere with her. She wants to see the world with the English beauty across from her. 

She wants to see sunsets and sundowns and those pretty lights that hang in the sky, Angie wants nothing more. 

And she goes to propose just that, doesn’t matter that they’ve know each other for 10 minutes, right? They’ve got the rest of their lives to figure it out. She looks back up to see Peggy reaching out, her hand brushing against Angie’s cheek. It’s sudden, and her cheeks burn 180 degrees cause people are looking now, an old couple smiling knowingly. 

And just as if realising her act Peggy flinches back like she really _did_ touch something burnin’ at 180 degrees, apology already out her mouth.

“Oh gosh that was forward of me, I’m sorry Angie really-”

Angie just takes her hand, placing it on the table and smiling.

“No worries, I get it. I’m irresistable”

Laughing, Peggy looks down, seeing Angie’s hand still on hers.

“God, it’s just I never thought it would be like this. When I bumped into you, it was horrible to watch you go. But now, well. I’m not scared, you know. We’ve got a long while together, don’t we?”

Smiling Angie holds tighter to the hand below hers, she can’t stop looking at Peggy’s face. Her smile is light and her body is rigid but her eyes are giving her away. She’s so _hopeful._

Peggy’s eyes are reflecting her own in the plainest sense. 

So Angie nods,

“Yeah, we got forever English” 

\---------------------------

“So! Soulmates…huh?”

They’re linked arm to arm, walking in one of the many parks spread across the city as light Autumn sets in. Crunchy _orange yellow_ and _red_ leaves litter the sidewalk, Angie herself can’t stop looking around. Her head excitedly whipping about as she talks to Peggy, the woman just chuckling and answering her words. 

“I believe so”

“Not dissapointed are ya English?”

“About what?”

“Who you get to share colours with. I’d be pretty peeved if it was Johnny the regular, guy has too many digits to his age” Angie lets out an involuntary shudder, didn’t help he had a glass eye. 

Peggy smiles and lets her hand slip lower as they walk, indulging in the small bashful smile Angie gives as their hands link. 

“Oh I’m sure he was polite as ever”

“Ugh, trust me. Guys a creep. Anyways ya didn’t answer my question”

“The one about being disappointed?”

“Yep, thats the one”

“Really no reason to be. You’re more than I could of ever imagined, Angie”

Angie’s cheeks colour with red, a pretty light pink that warms Peggy’s heart and makes Angie all that more beautiful in between the autumn leaves. Her voice is small though, like she’s afraid that she’s lying. And Peggy can’t fathom why a girl like Angie would need to be insecure, why she would need to be afraid of Peggy not meaning the words.

“You’re not kiddin?”

So Peggy stops at a park bench and sits them down, taking her soft hands and smoothing the skin. 

“ _So_ much more than I could of imagined. Angie you’re wonderful, quite simply put”

“Jee, English. How’d I get so lucky?”

“Luck of the draw perhaps”

Angie giggles and holds back to the hands more tightly.

“Nuh uh. I musta prayed the right amount, you’re a god send Pegs”

“In the mere hours I’ve know you and I’m a god send?”

 

“Of course! You seen those legs?”

Laughing Peggy leans back against the bench crossing her legs, taking in the crisp air. Angie’s still holding her hand, and she leans back into Peggy. Everything’s moving so fast but all Peggy can think about is how Angie feels in her arms. She fits perfectly, and it’s all the proof she needs that they’re going the right speed. 

So they sit there like that, between brown benches, blue skies and the sunset in the trees leaves. 

Peggy’s thinking of painting, she’s not sure why, she’s never touched a set of brushes or canvas’ in her life. But she wants to paint Angie, in every sense of the word. She wants to paint her eyes like they are the only blue eyes in existence, she wants to paint her smile like Da Vinci, maybe Peggy’s just in awe but the woman who she fell into in the big city is everything and more. 

She’s given Peggy a gift, knowingly. And Peggy herself knows it’s that darn thing called fate in the works, she doesn’t even know if she got much of a say. 

But even if she did have a choice, Peggy likes to think when she ran into Angie it was already settled.

She hears a soft sigh next to her ear, Angie eyes still widely scanning every available space and taking in the light through the trees. Peggy must have been daydreaming when she did it but Angie’s now twirling a leaf in between her fingers and biting her lip.

“English we should go somewhere. Just us.”

“And where do you propose?”

Angie’s eyes positively light up, the blue reflecting every sparkle of the sun. 

And on the sole accounts of Angie’s proposal Peggy’s left with Angie squeezing her hand excitedly and smiling, how could she say no? 

“Where else are we gonna test this colours thing? I mean you _seen_ Vegas Pegs? And plus I’ve been saving up for years for a trip like this, and no time like the present right”

And that’s how, after 5 hours of knowing Angie Martinelli, Peggy plans a trip to Las Vegas. 

(Apparently drinking, partying and gambling is step _one_ on: ‘Getting to know your Soulmate’)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow sorry this took so long!   
> (i am the master of procrastination I'm sorry)


	3. Just one dance (I'll make your dreams come true)

Bright lights and a city for the sin hearted is apparently _exactly_ the way to Angela Martinelli’s heart. 

Splurging money on five star hotels, not even caring that four martini’s cost Angie probably a month in tips. Just music, dancing, and an English soul mate whose body pierced Angie in all the right places. Luminescent bar signs, the smell of cigars and the clack of dice thrown is giving Angie vertigo the first time they step foot outside the Flamingo casino. 

With Peggy Carter, dressed to the perfect nines Peggy, her hair curled and lipstick so blood red; just smirks at her expression. An arm in Angie’s as she smiles and waves a chauffeur over, her voice low next to Angie’s ear. 

“Is this to your liking?” A delicate hand to the inside of her wrist and to Angie it’s to her _loving_. Not liking. 

So Angie just smiles bright, taking in the atmosphere and fluro colours as she runs to the front door, Peggy laughing and holding her hand behind her. “You kiddin’? This place is amazing! Is this even real? I swear to god I’m dreaming English, pinch me”

Peggy just shakes her head chuckling, snaking an arm around Angie’s waist and squeezing as a man politely opens the door. He nods as they walk in, a plastic smile and the twinkle in his eye like grease. 

“Welcome to Las Vegas, ladies!”

He sweeps the door open like it’s a dress swaying mid dance, the sounds immediately loud and full of laughter. Sequins and sashays on the woman, with the men in shoes that Angie swears blind her from their shine. 

But Angie’s in her element, the bars and clubs back home jack compared to _this_. To perfect music that already has Angie pulling Peggy to the dance floor and the smoke of people’s cigarettes acting like a welcome haze. 

Peggy’s just blindly following, a warm smile as Angie weaves through bodies, beelining for the centre of the casino. 

“Are you even going to ask me?” Peggy gets a confused eyebrow raise from over Angie’s shoulder, Peggy smirking as Angie makes it to the dancefloor and pulls them together.

“Ask you what?” The poor girls practically bouncing on the spot. 

“For a dance? You have English standards to meet you know”

Angie giggles, pulling them closer still as Peggy just lets her arms drape around a perfect neck. 

“Oh really? Well, I’ll meet your standards if you meet mine English”

“And what’s that?”

“How high can you lift a gal?” 

The music’s picking up, couple’s around them with bright smiles and frazzled hair. Peggy just laughs as Angie takes the lead, taking Peggy’s hands from around her neck and slipping them down so their arms length apart. Just to laugh and pull her back in, Peggy following Angie wherever her feet take her. Jumps and twirls and everything that a good dance should be makes Peggy’s head spin, her face flushed a beautiful shade of red that Angie can’t get enough of. 

People have stopped to watch, forming a circle of laughing ladies and cheering men as the singer on the stage hoots and hollers. 

Peggy, so far after meeting Angie, thinks she’s right about seeing every colour. But when Angie separates herself from their twirling bodies and goes for a run up, squealing as Peggy takes her hips and lifts into the air, Peggy thinks she’s seen the unseeable. 

Because the way Angie’s eyes light up, the way her body feels underneath Peggy’s hands, the way Angie laughs, all together, looks and sounds like a new colour was invented just to sum up Angela Martinelli. Her arms are around Peggy’s neck, Peggy looking up as Angie’s body fits perfectly in the lift. And Angie looks back down as the final trumpet note plays, a chorus of cheers as both just breathlessly smile and laugh as Angie slides down.

From the position, they’re close, oh so close and Peggy thinks if she was born with the right amount of guts for these type of things she would lean in and taste the colours she just saw. 

Thankfully, Angie was. Her face the same flushed pink, as she leans in and presses her lips to Peggy’s. It’s beautiful, feeling like when she first laid eyes on Angie. Fast, quick, sure, and a lot of colours. A _bloody_ lot of colours that fill Peggy’s lips with this tingle and shock. She gets it now when her brother talked of tasting them, the colours. It all makes perfect sense. 

And Angie leans back like she feels the same, and instead of pointing out the obvious, that be the electric shock that still runs Peggy’s mouth, Angie smiles. 

“You didn’t tell me you were all muscles” 

Peggy laughs, pecking her on the nose. 

“And you didn’t tell me you could dance like that! Truly Angie you have a talent” The woman in question just bites her lip from the embarrassed smile threatening to come up and shrugs. 

“It’s no biggie really. I took dancing classes when I was five, apparently some things stick with you”

“Oh my god, a dancing five year old Angie?”

Angie rolls her eyes and slaps half heartedly at a laughing Peggy’s shoulder, Peggy apologizing with a kiss to the forehead, so light and warm it makes Angie close her eyes. 

“That’s adorable, darling”

Scoffing and pushing on Peggy’s chest who erupted in laughter again, Angie stalks off to the bar with a still chuckling Peggy after her. “Very funny Pegs”

“What? I’m sure you wore the cutest tutus”

“Shut up English”

Angie tries to hide the smile with a frown, but instead she lets the laugh escape because Peggy isn’t who she expected, but she seems to be everything Angie can potentially fall in love with. And that warm brown that meets Angie’s eyes each time she looks, she thinks ‘potential love’ isn’t so bad when your love is an English woman who picks you up and holds you in the air and makes you feel like you’re flyin’.

And as Peggy jokes and jabs asking if she looked good in pink, Angie resigns to the fact that soulmates is a _risky_ thing. So she just leans in and kisses her soulmate on the cheek to stop her talking, finding something out in a brief moment of an explosion of colours as she leans back to look in her eyes. 

That Peggy Carter; the woman who Angie ran into in the big city, the woman who makes her feel weightless, is a risk worth taking. 

\----------------------

 

**Bonus:**

They spend the rest of the night nursing drinks and sitting close in booths. Laughing and telling stories as the leather of the seats drowns out the noise of the casino still thriving. It makes Angie giggle behind her hand though as tailored men walk up to their booth and ask for a ‘Friday night at 6’ with a wink directed to Angie herself. What makes her laugh though, is the wave of a hand and a barely hidden scowl as Peggy just eyes them with a “Move along” 

“Are you jealous English?” Angie raises her eyebrow, her chin on top of her hand as she leans close. 

“What, me? What would suggest that?” 

Angie smiles and leans in close, Peggy jokingly smirking as she takes a sip of her glass. 

“Dunno. The angry eyes you got going are kinda an indicator” 

“Angry eyes?”

“Yep.”

“Can you blame me? I’m with the woman of the hour right now, excuse me if I get a little... _protective_ over you”

“Oh protective is what we're calling it? Admit it Pegs, you’re jealous”

“Am most certainly not”

Angie just grins and presses her lips to Peggy’s, humming as she pulls back and in a sing-song voice pecks her on the cheek. 

“Jea-aaa-looous”

Peggy rolls her eyes but with a smile, taking in these warm colours that spread throughout her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeesh, this took a while. 
> 
> But I'm only human and was honestly kinda stuck on where to go but I've got a feel now. This is pretty short and the next chapter will most likely be the last (long one tho) so theres that.
> 
> PS the bonus thing is cause i didn't know if i wanted in there? So i just put it in like that cause was unsure and yadda yadda 
> 
> PPS- the title is taken from just one dance by Caro emerald and wrote this while listening (her songs are great btw and BLEED cartinelli)


End file.
